


The Grantchester Mysteries: Still Waters Run Deep

by SagefemmeTheWriter



Category: Grantchester
Genre: F/M, Geordie's Backstory, Grantchester Mysteries, a little bit of romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 01:40:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4768766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SagefemmeTheWriter/pseuds/SagefemmeTheWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I loved the Granchester series, and this idea has been floating around in my head almost since the first episode! This is my first piece of extended writing, and definitely my first fanfic, so please be kind, although feedback is very welcome! I don't have a Beta, so any mistakes are ones that have fallen through my proof-reads.</p>
<p>I own none of the existing characters (Sidney, Geordie, Cathy, Mrs M, Dickens etc.) or the concept of a crime-solving duo made up of a Vicar and a Detective Inspector from Northumberland: they belong to James Runcie. Kate is my own creation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Fireside Dreams, Birthday Parties and Unexpected Visitors

Chapter 1

It was high summer. Insects buzzed from flower to flower, heavy with the spoils of the garden. Reverend Sidney Chambers sighed and relaxed heavily into his deckchair.   
"Yes, this is the life." he thought to himself. For a brief moment in time, no one needed him. No couples to council, no bedsides to sit at. Not that Sidney begrudged his parishioners his time, indeed it was one of his favourite parts of his vocation, the privilege of being welcomed into people's homes. No, Sidney mused, it was more that he hadn't had much time for introspection recently, what with four christenings, three weddings and two funerals in the past month alone. The life of a country vicar was seldom isolated.

Sidney was disturbed from his reverie by something cool and sticky on his face. He tried to wave it away, but his hand met with something decidedly solid, furry and warm. He opened his eyes only to find himself nose to nose with an over-excited Labrador.   
"Dickens! Get down! Mrs M will have my head, and your hide, if she catches you up on the chair!" Sidney came to, pushed the dog down, and realised that not only was it not midsummer, it was midwinter and he'd fallen asleep in front of the fire in the sitting room. He sighed, stood, stretched and looked at the clock. Damn! He chastised himself for falling asleep. It was Geordie's youngest's birthday and Sidney had promised to attend the party. The party which started in 20 minutes.

"Mrs M? MRS M!" shouted Sidney. His (much beloved) housekeeper could always be counted upon to be around when he was doing something she disapproved of, but when he actually needed her? She was conspicuous by her absence. He flew around the house, grabbing multiple layers to wrap up against the bitter cold, as well as the small wooden spinning top he had carved for Geordie's lad. Sidney only found her note explaining that she had gone to visit one of the villagers as he was running out of the house to get to his bicycle.

Sidney could have sworn that he flew from Grantchester to Cambridge, none of his usual meandering to enjoy the beauty of the Cambridge countryside, and quite frankly he was amazed that he hadn't landed head first in a ditch after encountering the inevitable ice on the roads. He jumped from his bicycle and leant it up against the railings outside Geordie's house. He paused to catch his breath and cursed himself for putting on so many layers: he was now sweltering from the exertion of the ride. He had just opened the gate when the door opened and Geordie appeared with a wry smile on his face.  
"Trying to break the land-speed record are ye?" Geordie asked in his characteristic Northumberland drawl.  
"I'm so sorry I'm late Geordie, I-"  
"Don't worry about it, lad's only five. He's most concerned about when he gets cake and which present is his favourite. Besides, he can't tell the time yet anyway." Geordie smiled and his friend and stood aside to let him in.

As he stepped over the threshold, Sidney was immediately enveloped by the warm atmosphere of the house: this was shortly followed by a whirling ball of energy almost taking him out at the knees.  
"Uncle Sidney!" the subject of the afternoon's commotion, five year old David, cried with delight, as his arms wrapped around Sidney's legs. Sidney bent down to unwrap David's arms from his legs and swung him up in the air.  
"Happy Birthday young man!" Sidney smiled warmly at David and handed him his gift. "Got any good presents yet? This one'll probably be a bit disappointing I'm afraid" David's face lit up as if he had suddenly had an epiphany.  
"Mum said I couldn't open any until you arrived, now you're here I can! Muuuuuum, Uncle Sidney's here!" He wriggled out of Sidney's arms and he ran into the back room searching for Cathy, so that the great unwrapping could begin.

As he watched David zip through the house to find his mum, Sidney was struck anew by the longing that he had been suppressing since Amanda's wedding and Hildegard's departure: an ache that he felt in the pit of his stomach. It came to him when he visited Geordie and his family, or when he christened the child of a couple he had married only ten months (or sometimes less, but Sidney made a point not to judge) previously, or even when he saw a small child running across the churchyard (followed by the irate chiding of one parent or other) after Sunday service. Come to think of it, the feeling came to him much more often than he was willing to admit. The reason for his denial: he was conflicted. It made him long to settle, to give into Mrs M’s nagging and find a wife, to feel himself the excitement of welcoming children into the world, but his continued flashbacks made him fear that he wasn't healed enough to give himself over to a wife and family. His greatest and most secret fear was that he might never be healed enough.

He was pulled back into Geordie's sitting room by the squeal of an over-excited five year-old. David had ripped the brown paper from Sidney's gift and was now hypnotised by the spirographic wanderings of the top across the floorboards. He pouted as it came to an abrupt halt against the rug, and the adults present tried not to snicker out loud at the petulant expression on his face. Cathy spoke out "Davey, say thank you to your Uncle for the present." He looked up at Sidney with unbridled admiration and grinned. "Thanks Uncle Sidney!" There it was again. That pesky feeling. He wondered if he'd ever be in a place to find a woman who could make it go away. He muffled a small sigh. Until that day, whiskey and the company of Dickens would have to suffice.

After a couple of hours, the party was starting to wind down. Cake and several rounds of 'Blind Man's Bluff' had rendered the birthday boy sufficiently drowsy to be requiring his bed, when there was a frantic hammering at the front door. Cathy was closest, but Geordie held up a hand to stop her.   
"I know that knock, likely to be bad news love." Geordie had been quite congenial all afternoon, but his mood had turned sombre as soon as he'd heard the first knock. He headed out into the hallway. The assembled crowd waited to hear the courteous 'Good evening inspector, sorry to disturb' of one of Geordie's PCs that they all expected; instead, they heard Geordie's exclamation of surprise. At this they all turned towards the door. Sidney stood and started to move towards the hall in case Geordie was in trouble.  
Female tones were heard, muffled by the door, followed by Geordie’s decidedly not-muffled exclamation of "What in the blue blazes are you doing here?” Before Sidney could reach the hall, they heard the door close and footsteps moving towards the front room, so the assembled friends and family waited to see who the newcomer was.


	2. Of Family, Mystery and Whiskey-fuelled Fireside recollections.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2, in which our mystery is revealed, and the identity of the unexpected visitor becomes clearer.
> 
> As ever, I own none but Kate and Becky.
> 
> Any comments are much appreciated! I think we've got our own little Grantchester niche!

Geordie reappeared in the doorway, followed by a tall, dark haired young woman. She was wearing a dark coat over a nurse's uniform, the traditional cap on her head was slightly askew and her hair was escaping from the bun at the nape of her neck. She was certainly beautiful, but she looked wrung out and slightly grey. There was also something familiar about her face, Sidney mused, and when she looked up and met his gaze, he realised. Her eyes were the spit of Geordie's, although where his were clear blue, hers were the darkest brown. She must be a relation then, but how was she connected to Geordie? Surely she was too old to be his daughter? And Geordie had never mentioned a first wife. Sidney then noticed that the eyes that had so engaged his sleuthing tendencies were bloodshot and red-rimmed, and so he quickly moved from his position standing in front of his fireside chair and gestured for so her to sit down.

Geordie's face flickered between concern and curiosity as he watched the woman sitting by the fire. The mystery of the her identity remained, at Cathy's insistence, until she had a cup of strong, sweet tea and a handkerchief. It was only then, when Geordie asked her to explain, from the beginning, what had happened, that she looked up. Her eyes travelled from him to Sidney, and back again with a hint of reproach in her gaze, and Geordie seemed to realise that Sidney was still present. "Sorry lass, you took me by surprise turning up all unannounced-like!" The woman looked like she might start sobbing afresh at that, and Geordie quickly backtracked. "What I mean is that you were the last person I expected to see when I opened that door. Usually late night house calls here are to do with crime!" 

She relaxed, but only slightly, as Geordie actually got around to introductions. "Kate, this is my friend Canon Sidney Chambers. Ignore the fancy title, he's really just a vicar and his parish is just outside of Cambridge, a place called Grantchester. Somehow, God knows how, we've become quite the crime-solving duo." he quipped, glancing at Sidney with a grin, no doubt hoping to make his niece smile at their unlikely pairing. He continued: "Sidney, this is my niece, Kathryn, or Kate for short so she doesn't get confused with Cathy. She's a nurse, and I gather she's travelled all the way from Newcastle to visit." It made sense now, the familiarity of the woman's facial features. Sidney ruminated on this new information: Geordie had a sibling, possibly more than one, but he'd never mentioned them, so possibly a family feud? He shook himself mentally. He needed to stop being so self-indulgent. There was a woman, quite obviously in distress, sat in front of him. He was a Vicar. He should stop lollygagging and do his job. Following this train of thought, he smiled gently and said "I'm happy to leave if you'd feel more comfortable Miss Keating."

"No, you're alright Mr Chambers. I just need to calm down, it's been a long 24 hours and I haven't slept." She yawned on cue, which prompted Cathy to start fussing over her like a mother hen, insisting that she have some more tea, and was she sure this was so urgent that it needed to be relayed now? Or could it wait until morning? Geordie shot Cathy a look that said that that waiting was out of the question. Kate's rumpled appearance and the dark circles around her eyes alone conveyed the urgency of the situation. In Sidney's experience, nurses were deeply pragmatic women and so it would be no trivial matter that had her trekking halfway across the country on no sleep. The children had gathered around Kate whilst the adults had been talking: she was a novelty, this young woman they hadn’t met before who looked and sounded like their Father. She was doing her level best to answer all their questions, but she was exhausted and needed to relay her story to Geordie so that she could sleep. Using that form of telepathy particular to parents, Geordie and Cathy announced simultaneously that it was bed time. Amidst groans and howls of how unfair it was, Cathy herded them upstairs.

Cathy returned to the room a few minutes later. “I left Ellen in charge of getting them to bed.” She directed her explanation towards Geordie. He nodded and attention turned back to Kate; Geordie placed his hand over her’s and spoke softly. “Go on lass, now the bairns are gone to bed. Tell us what’s wrong.”.  
"Oh Uncle Geordie" she began in her gentle Northumberland brogue, before her voice cracked, her mask of calm crumbled and a sob escaped.  
"Don't worry yourself lass, take your time." Geordie squeezed her hand to reassure her.  
"It's our Becky.” Kate paused, composed herself and continued. “She's run away." The looks of shock on both Geordie and Cathy's faces perplexed Sidney. Who was Becky? Was she Kate's child? (Something inside Sidney dropped unpleasantly at the thought of Kate being married, a something that he steadfastly ignored) If Becky was Kate’s daughter, surely she'd be far too young to be running away as far as Cambridge? Again, Sidney's internal workings had lead him to zone out. He really must stop doing that.

Kate was continuing her story. "She left us a note, saying she was coming to see you because you'd understand. But she never said what it was you'd understand! Uncle Geordie, she must have slipped out whilst I was at work last night, I got her note when I got back this morning and went straight to the Police station. Once I'd given a statement to the Police up there, I got back to our rooms, grabbed a bag and jumped on the next train, that's why I didn't telephone. I'm sorry to impose on you Uncle Geordie, Cathy!" Kate was visibly struggling not to burst into tears again and so was enveloped in Cathy's arms, before being hustled up the stairs to sleep in one of the children's beds. It looked like Peter might be sleeping in with his Mum and Dad again for the duration of Kate’s stay. Knowing the young boy’s tendency towards early starts, Sidney was sure Geordie would be overjoyed about this.

Sidney turned to Geordie, confused. "Geordie, if you don't mind me asking, what's going on? You've never mentioned having any siblings, let alone a niece!"   
Geordie sighed, a great exhale of air that Sidney could tell was borne of a troubled past, for how often had he sighed such himself? It was Geordie’s turn to tell his story. "Two nieces, and three nephews. My sister's bairns” He went to one of the cupboards, reached into the back and pulled out a dark bottle. He grabbed two glasses, poured a measure of whiskey into each, handed one to Sidney, and sipped his. "I grew up in a mining town. Miners are hard men Sidney, and my Dad was no exception. Liked a drink, and was heavy handed with his fists. My sister Esme, Kate's Mam, she was the eldest and she bore the brunt of his tempers, I still don't know why. Kate's father, Frank, was an exception in our town. He didn’t go down the pit, and he was educated. Charm personified he was, and when he took a fancy to Esme, she was wary of him, but started courting him to escape me Dad.” Sidney smiled at the old-fashioned word, but Geordie didn’t notice, he was so deep in his memories. 

“Frank was all charm to begin with, I suppose Esme thought she’d escaped, and so she let her guard down. But he was a nasty piece of work, violent, but a criminal too, which my Dad never was. A spiv, you know the like. They thrived like rodents during the depression, ripping off all and sundry. Esme fell with Kate before she found out the extent of it though: I think she was convinced she could change him. She was only 17, and they were married as soon as the bans could be read. Right from the start, Frank knocked her about something awful and he wouldn't let any of the rest of the family near her. We didn't hear from them for years, when me Dad died down the pit, we sent a mourning card, but Kate never came to the funeral. Then one day, out of the blue, the bairns turned up to tell me Mam that Esme was dead, knocked down the stairs by her vicious bastard of a husband. That was 1941, Kate was 11 and her elder brother Tom was 13. Becky would have been 6.

"When Tom and Kate turned up at me Mam's house, they told her everything from the missing years. Tom and Kate had two other brothers, Harry and Nicholas, both younger, and Becky was the youngest. Their father was a brute, but he was a cruel man rather than a man whose temper fed on beer. They all bear scars from his torture, because that’s what it was, all of them except Becky. Kate was there when Becky was born: too soon, and with the cord around her neck. Kate remembers overhearing Esme ask the midwife if it would be kinder to let nature take its course, that Becky wouldn't survive for long with her husband around, but Kate wouldn't give up on her. When Esme was too browbeaten, Kate would protect her sister from the whims of their father: to a barbarian like that, a slow child is a mark against his manhood,and a drain on his resources, so Kate bears more marks than her brothers.

"After Esme died, Frank was finally locked away. Kate wouldn't let Becky out of her sight. She was like her second mother, after me own Mam. Becky's a lovely girl, simple y’know, but always just like a child, even when she reached 16, which was the last time I saw her. It took a lot of encouragement to get Kate to think about doing her nurses training: me Mam saw how clever she was and wanted her to make a life for herself, perhaps wrongly she thought Becky would hold her back. Kate had just finished her training when me Mam died unexpectedly: Kate straight away found rooms of her own and had Becky to live with her. She found a neighbour who was glad of Becky's company during the day, and who would keep an ear out at night when Kate was on shift. Last I’d heard she was even going to a special youth club, for kids like her. Kate loves that girl as if she were her own daughter, I can't understand why Becky'd run away! That, and I wouldn't have thought she was capable." 

Geordie looked wrung out by his recollections, and although he felt guilty for being the cause, Sidney was glad that his friend had opened up about his family. He understood Geordie much more that before, why he loved his wife and children so fiercely but found it so hard when matters involving them were beyond his control. As Sidney continued to ponder, he realised that some part of him was also relieved by Geordie’s confession: it made him believe that a damaged past didn't have to mean a dismal future. Sidney was just about to offer to call the station, when Geordie locked into Inspector mode.  
"We'd better call the station, and get a description circulating. The sooner we find Becky, the better. She's not safe to be on the streets on her own, let alone at night in a foreign city." He looked into the fire for a moment and was silent. Then he spoke. "I'm frightened Sidney."   
"I'm sure we'll find her Geordie." Sidney was trying his best to be reassuring, but he wasn't sure he was succeeding. His intuition was like a lump of lead in the pit of his stomach. He was worried too, but he’d not let Geordie see how much.


	3. Of A Housekeeper's Scheming, Railway Platforms and Wintry Countryside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3, in which Mrs M channels her inner Emma Woodhouse...
> 
> As ever, I own none but Kate and Becky.
> 
> Comments and feedback, positive or negative, would be much appreciated!

The next morning, Sidney awoke to find that the feeling of foreboding that had settled on him the previous evening had not abated. In fact, it had worsened. He found himself praying more fervently than he had since Geordie was shot that Becky would be found alive and well. Unfortunately, Grantchester was keeping him busier than would allow him time to help the Police in their investigations for the next couple of days. That was probably a good thing, as his mind was plagued by a pair of deep brown eyes. No, plagued wasn’t the right word. Plagues were dark and destructive. Haunted? Afflicted? Teased? No, none of these words accurately described the memory of those brown eyes. Captivated. Yes, that was it. Of course he had no right to be captivated by a woman whom he had met but once, and had exchanged barely 10 words with. This rational thought did not stop his mind from conjuring, unbidden, the image of Miss Keating laughing, hair loose around her shoulders as he spun her around on an anonymous dancefloor. He chided himself before his thoughts turned in an utterly ungentlemanly direction, as he dressed and headed down to the kitchen to try and eat some breakfast.

Sidney carried on much the same for the next few days, burying his head in his Parish to attempt to distract himself. Some 3 days after Peter’s eventful birthday party, Sidney was drinking his morning tea and mulling over the topic of his Sunday sermon: he was no longer convinced by the parable of the discarded salt, and wanted to re-work his topic.   
"Good morning Mr Chambers." Mrs M was uncharacteristically chipper, especially considering that her favourite member of their little household, Mr Finch, was away visiting family.  
"Good morning Mrs M." Sidney returned. He noticed Mrs M hesitate, and he wondered what on earth it was that she would struggle to say; his housekeeper was not known for her restraint when it came to speaking her mind. “Mrs Keating called yesterday, Mr Chambers. Told me that there’s still no news about the Inspector’s poor niece, and how difficult it’s been for the elder one. Mrs Keating says she’s going stir crazy in Cambridge.” Mrs M was studiously rearranging the flowers in the vase on the windowsill, although when she glanced around, Sidney could swear he saw a scheming glint in her eye. “So I thought I’d take the liberty of inviting her out to Grantchester for the day. If nothing else, that hound of yours should provide a welcome distraction, and I can feed her up.” There it was, the scheme she was working on. She did keep telling him that 'what he wanted was a wife', and it seemed she was making a more concerted effort toward achieving that end.  
"I'm not certain Miss Keating would want to be away from Cambridge at present." Sidney reasoned tersely, wishing to dampen her scheming, though simultaneously hoping that the opposite of his words would be true.   
Mrs M smiled triumphantly. "Well there you’d be wrong. I telephoned last evening to invite her, and she accepted. I believe she’s on the 9.30 train, which gives you about,” she turned and glanced at the clock “13 minutes to get to the station to collect her.”   
“And you didn't think to mention this last night?” Sidney asked irately as he jumped up rather too quickly, rattling his teacup in its saucer. He headed out into the garden to fetch his bicycle. As she heard him call for Dickens, Mrs M turned back to the stove with a wry smile and muttered “Because I didn't want you to spend the whole night over-thinking it. Don’t want you scaring the girl off.” She continued to peel potatoes for lunch, occasionally smiling like the cat that had gotten the cream and feeling delighted that her planning may yet bear fruit.

As Sidney pedalled towards the station his thoughts became ever more perplexing. There was no doubt in his mind that Kate was an extraordinary young woman, but he had spoken barely ten words to her! Their acquaintance, for it was too insubstantial to be called anything more, was so far based upon twenty minutes of being in the same room as her, during which she had been recounting the circumstances of her sister’s disappearance! How was it possible to be so affected by someone so acutely? Amanda he had known since childhood, and Hildegard, well. He had admired her beauty, but she had been newly widowed when he had met her, hardly eligible! Their relationship had grown during their correspondence and her visits to Grantchester, it was nothing like this instantaneous kinship he felt with Kate. He had never before given credence to the ‘thunderbolt’ theory, but he felt as if he had indeed been struck. He was a truly confused man.

Lost in his thoughts, Sidney had managed to make it to the station in record time. Poor Dickens was panting so heavily that he was doing a rather good impression of a dragon breathing out smoke, as well as looking like he was ready to sleep for a week, which was unsurprising given that they had done the normally 10-minute journey in five. They walked to the station door, Sidney leaned his bicycle against the wall and selected a bench upon which to sit and wait, Dickens at his feet. With at least six minutes to wait until the train arrived, Sidney resolved to puzzle out the issue of his sermon. This resolve lasted grand total of two minutes, and then he found himself thinking about those brown eyes again. 

When the train finally pulled in, Sidney stood and peered into the thick clouds of steam to watch for the subject of his thoughts, although a part of his mind retained enough sense to scoff at the cliché of the situation. His first indication that anyone had alighted was Dickens running full pelt to the mists of the platform.   
"Hello there little one! My, you are full of energy! You wouldn't happen to be attached to a rather tall, handsome Vicar would you pet?" Sidney felt a thrill go through him at her words. When she emerged, wrapped up in a thick coat, scarf and gloves, she looked at him with a small smile, well aware that he had heard her, and Sidney felt that irksome thrill jolt through him from head-to-toe again. She really did have the most lovely smile, and dimples, beautiful dimples. Oh dear, Sidney thought. He was in trouble. And Mrs M was going to be insufferable when she realised she had been right.

Sidney greeted her with a smile, and they headed out to the road. When Sidney retrieved his bicycle, Kate spoke. "Mr Chambers, it was so kind of you to invite me out to Grantchester. I don't want to be away, but at the same time, I can't stand being useless! I’m not built for ornament: I’m so used to there always being something to do, I can't just sit around waiting for news. I felt like I was losing my mind!" Sidney could see Kate was still worn out and he could hear the frustration in her voice, but she looked a little brighter than when they had first met.  
"Miss Keating, it's a pleasure to have you visit us here, and please, call me Sidney." He smiled at her warmly. "I'm very much the same, I pace like a caged lion when there's something going on but I'm unable to help, and I find a change of scenery always helps. How do you think I ended up working with your uncle? He laughed and he heard Kate chuckle.  
"I had wondered how you two had wound up such firm friends Mr Chamb... Sidney; my Uncle doesn’t make friends easily. But truly, I am so very grateful. And please, call me Kate. I always feel like I'm in trouble when someone calls me by my last name! It was always 'Miss Keating, stop daydreaming' at school, and now it's 'Nurse Keating, stop dawdling' when I'm at work!" She grinned good-naturedly. "I'm always talking too much, I expect that's why matron recommended me for my Midwifery training. Talking's a required skill as a midwife!"

The conversation flowed very naturally and their pace slowed as they walked along the country lanes back towards the village. They talked about Geordie, Cathy and the children (Kate adored them), her love of Dylan Thomas (“Wasn’t Dickie Burton marvellous in Under Milk Wood?”) and the removal of troops from Suez (“I’m glad. We’ve seen too much fighting in our lives already.”) She was intelligent, sharp with a dry sense of humour, well-read and aware of the world. She also wasn’t afraid to voice her opinions, although, Sidney reflected wryly, this was hardly surprising given that she was a relative of Geordie’s. They talked about Sidney’s vocation and theological training, about Kate’s recent completion of her midwifery training and about the similarities in their two professions. Some would argue they would be the two that no door is ever barred to: the vicar and the midwife. Kate very proudly told him of the historical privileges given to midwives, including the medieval dispensation from the Catholic Church which allowed midwives to perform baptisms, the only women allowed to conduct Roman Catholic rites. She was also good-naturedly complaining about their not being allowed to wear red cloaks, as their 17th C forebears had done to distinguish themselves as midwives, especially now that the threat of burning at the stake was long past. Her love of and enthusiasm for history was unusual in a young woman who wasn’t an academic, but it took an extraordinary person to overcome the barriers she had overcome to get to where she was, what was one more unusual interest?

As they strolled along, Sidney noticed Kate gazing over the frosty meadows with undisguised delight. "Did you grow up in the countryside Miss Keating?" he enquired. "I hear that Northumberland is quite beautiful." he added.  
"Mr Chambers, if I’m to call you Sidney, you must call me Kate!” She looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “No, I grew up in Newcastle. I don't know how much Uncle Geordie told you about our family, but my father wasn't a nice man." In that moment, she looked very much like Geordie had when he recounted his childhood. Sidney nodded. "My brothers and I tried to stay out of the house, and there was a park near where we lived that we used to spend all hours playing in. It was the nearest thing to countryside that we had until we moved in with me Grandmam. It was bombed in the war though. I used to think how silly that German bomber must have been, a park doesn't look anything like the docks!" She smiled, the sadness of her past shaken off by remembering her childish indignation. "What about you Sidney, are you Grantchester born and raised? You certainly fit in perfectly!” She gestured to the bicycle and Dickens.  
"No, although I was raised near the country. I studied at Cambridge before the war and fell in love with the place, so when the living became available, it seemed like it was meant to be." He smiled, remembering how excited he had been as a university student, seeing the Grantchester meadows for the first time. "It is a beautiful spot you have here. I'm sure if I were visiting under better circumstances, I would be hard pressed to leave!" Kate laughed. She spread her arms wide and tipped her face up towards the clear midwinter sun, spinning around in the road. For a scarce moment, Sidney marvelled at the glorious sight of her, laughing face, roses in her cheeks, hair working loose from the bun at the nape of her neck, before he realised what was about to happen. As Kate's foot slipped on a patch of ice, he lunged forward and caught her as she lost her balance. They steadied, and Sidney was overwhelmed by the sensations of having her in his arms. It felt magnificent, holding her so close. She smelled like spring, a light and fresh floral scent, with just the smallest hint of carbolic underneath it all.

She seemed to take a few seconds to catch her breath, and whilst she did so, Sidney wondered if she was as affected by their proximity as he was. He certainly hoped so. Dickens barked and she seemed to realise how close they were: her face flushed.  
"Mr Chambers, I'm so sorry! I can't believe I was so foolish! I could have broken my ankle and taken you down with me. You must think me a very silly young woman!" Kate exclaimed. Sidney took her hands in his, turned towards her and looked into her face, which was only a couple of inches below his.  
"I most certainly do not think that Miss Keating." putting emphasis on her formal name to remind her to call him Sidney. She was about to reply when they heard a shout. Sidney's heart sunk as he recognised the less than dulcet tones of Mrs M and he reluctantly pulled away. He turned towards the source of the noise, and sure enough, Mrs M was stood in the garden of the Rectory.  
"Mr Chambers? Is that Miss Keating there? Don't stop outside or you'll both catch your deaths! I've just made a fresh pot of tea, so hurry up inside before it stews!" she called before heading back inside to the warmth.


	4. As yet untitled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this isn't a chapter as yet, but all you lovely people leaving kudos has reminded me that I do actually have chapters waiting in the wings for you... Work is busy so I can't promise anything, but hopefully there'll be something new for you in the next week or so...

See above lovely readers!

Content coming soon...


End file.
